To save a life
by Azalee
Summary: Alive-verse - Sawamura Shirou and all the ways his life with some serial-killer girlfriend of his did not go.


I'm not completely satisfied with the flow of this, but ah well. That's what happens when you write bits and pieces completely separately over the span of a few weeks. (It's also the reason why this keeps switching tenses, although I've reworked it a lot and sometimes the tenses just had to stay. They might still seem a bit random but I swear there's a logic. Not that I could explain it.)

I've been fangirling over those two ever since I read the first chapter of _Spiral Alive_ anyway, it was just a matter of time before I finally wrote something.

**Warnings :** Non-graphic mention of sex (het), murder and suicide. No slash at all for once (but only because I didn't manage to squeeze in Saeki...). A few spoilers for Spiral Alive regarding Amanae's past, her motives and her intentions - things revealed in the beginning of the fifth volume especially ; although they shouldn't be so obvious that you'd notice them without knowing about them beforehand. Except if you're completely obsessed with Alive, but then you probably do already know about it. :)

**Disclaimer :** Still not mine~ ! Shirodaira Kyou and Mizuno Eita own both _Spiral : Suiri no Kizuna_ and its prequel _Spiral alive_ - and my soul along with them, too.

* * *

In this life, Sawamura Shirou sometimes wonders about some things. Such as :

• why he seems to have such a knack to meet weird, crazy, scary, dangerous (as in, way past _potentially_ dangerous) girls ;

• whether it bothers him ;

• where he stands exactly with one of those girls in particular ;

• whether it's a bad thing to doubt that his girlfriend loves him or even likes him at all ;

• whether he loves her ;

• how to save her ;

• if he can do it ;

• why he wants to do it ;

• how things could be different.

He ponders those things a lot, some more that others. He lingers on the last one especially, until it just adds another item to the list :

• if he would like things to be different.

* * *

In another life, a girl ran into him on one rainy afternoon. She tripped and stumbled into him and there was the sound of something breaking as he caught her on impulse.

_Whoa there ! You okay ?_

The girl had a pretty face, long straight dark hair, large dark eyes, and a look of utter horror and despair as she checked on the content of her bag. _Oh no, Yukine-chan's music box !_

She was almost crying, standing still under the relentless rain, clutching the remains of a fragile wooden box and the delicate miniature machinery that was inside, both smashed to pieces in her hands. _You okay ?_ he asked again, cautiously, and she looked up at him, surprised and confused and apologetic, but mostly still just... sad. That's probably about the moment he stopped really thinking and started just doing what he felt like doing.

He apologized, even though it wasn't really his fault, offered her a warm drink to console her, even though he was almost broke, sat down opposite her in a small café and smiled at her, even though he'd never had a drink with a girl before, asked her about that box and that Yukine-chan of hers, even though it really wasn't any of his business.

The girl smiled back as she took a sip from her hot chocolate mug and started explaining, with complete and goodnatured spontaneity. She told him all about her big sister Yukine who was just so amazing and nice to her and who had given her a beautiful music box she'd made herself. He was genuinely interested and, very swiftly and naturally, they started chatting as if they'd always been old friends. She told him about her parents - scientists, in charge of a super-important experiment - and he told her about his, always traveling around the world - they were in Australia right now. They talked about school, about life in general, about music - and that, of course, meant Narumi Kiyotaka, which they both agreed was a bastard before simultaneously bursting into laughter.

It was hours before they suddenly noticed the time and hurried outside. The rain had stopped.

_May I walk you back ? _he offered. _My name is Sawamura Shirou, by the way._

She smiled and nodded.

_I would love that. Pleased to meet you, Sawamura-kun ; I'm Amanae Charlotte._

_  
_o

In this life, he had his first real conversation with Amanae Yukine, the most beautiful girl of his (former) school, on a construction site, and started dating her right away because of a common interest in a man that can not be human.

He might've liked something more romantic, but it just wouldn't be the same. (It might work better though.)

* * *

In another life, he gave up on Narumi Kiyotaka because, really, that man was a bastard and no way would he want to become like him one day. Like half of the male population of his school, he formed a small crush on Amanae Yukine from class 3, but gave up easily, because she was beautiful but she was out of his reach. He started dating Sekiguchi Imari from class 1, because she asked him out and she was funny and sort of cute in a weird way, with her red face, crazy hair and sparkling eyes, and because she did not remind him of anyone in particular. (And also because, well. She had nunchucks.)

He followed the news about the music box serial killer on the TV like everyone, only half interested ; he froze in shock when they announced that the police had found the culprit and showed the picture of a woman who had killed herself in front of him years earlier. Then Imari, sitting beside him on his couch, shrieked something and pointed at the screen, and he recognized a girl from their school and he was just surprised and a bit unnerved. And when he chuckled and hugged poor Imari, freaked out of her wits, and kissed the top of her head to reassure her, he absolutely did not hesitate or wonder what he was doing.

o

In this life, he once spent ten minutes psyching himself up to dare reach out and hold his girlfriend's hand when she suddenly grabbed his, casually, naturally, and he was relieved to an utterly ridiculous extent.

He thinks back on that simple moment, and the warmth and softness of her hand, as he looks up to the sky and clenches his fist on empty air.

* * *

In another life, he does not feel the need to look away every time he glimpses a music box, he does not curse Narumi Kiyotaka's name just as fervently as he longs to understand the man's twisted mind, and he most certainly never looks at gifted-talented-clever-beautiful-violent youths and absently wonder if they've got all their ribs.

o

In another life, he never even looked twice at Amanae Yukine, because he never liked tall girls with long dark hair and sorrow in their eyes.

o

In another life, he is fourteen years old and scared but he's holding a woman's hand tight in his and he's telling her, _It'll be okay_.

The woman (beautiful, beautiful, long dark hair, deep dark eyes and a sad and gentle look in them ; too gentle to kill, much too gentle to die) looks at him, eyes wide with shock. He stares back and repeats _it'll all be okay, I promise_ and squeezes her hand, gently but firmly, and he even manages to smile at her weakly. She stares at him a long time, but she's stopped muttering _forgive me forgive me oh god forgive me_ and that's more than what he hoped for. After a while, her mouth starts slowly, slowly curving up, and right as Narumi Kiyotaka waltzes in, grinning and sing-songing (_Young lady - gentleman - it's over_), she smiles and whispers _Thank you_.

He visits her at the detention center, then in prison. She smiles every time she sees him ; she apologizes to him for what she did that day, but says she regrets nothing.

_I did what I did because I had to, and I would do it again ; but I am glad I met you afterwards. _She smiles at him from the other side of the glasspane. _You changed my life, young man. You don't know what I would've done without you._

o_  
_

In this life, he does know.

* * *

In another life, he found Amanae Yukine just before she killed her fourth victim. He stopped her, grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to his apartment, and she did not fight back or scream ; her expression did not even change, actually.

She was still clutching the music box.

She sat down on his couch and said nothing while he watched her. So he kissed her and said _I'll save you, Amanae, if you just let me_.

She looked up at him, surprised, let him kiss her again and smiled and gave him the small music box.

She told him everything, with a calm voice and a smile on her face. He held her hand and listened until she was finished, then he wordlessly kissed her again.

_Alright, so where do you want to go now ?_ he asked.

She raised her eyebrows, then smiled, only a little. _Ivory Coast ?_

_Ivory Coast sounds good to me._

So to the Ivory Coast they went, and when they grew tired of it they went to France because she wanted to see Paris and then to America because he wanted to see New York ; and if any one ever came after them, well, they never found them. Once, though, in England, Amanae pointed out to him a group of children in the street, because they were all the same age and all had the same eyes and smiles and none of them seemed happy. _I'm happy_, she stated randomly, and kissed him just as randomly. They never mentioned any of that again afterwards.

Somewhere along the way they fell in love for real, that or they were both really damn good at make-believe. They made love in Venice (_after_ Amanae started taking the pill, because children were _not_ an option, not _ever_) and got married for fun in Los Angeles, and Amanae even let him call her by her first name after a while.

Still, they never took the risk of going back to Japan. So instead of going to stand in the middle of the ruins of a long-burned down house, once a year, Amanae lit a candle and let him hold her silently. After five years, since his parents were going to come back from their business trip and would probably wonder about him, he sent them a message : _I've gone with the love of my life. Can't come back, sorry, but don't worry about me. Love you both, Shirou._

Amanae read the note over his shoulder. _Nice_, she commented. He smiled and kissed her, just because.

He came back to his parents a year later, told them with a smile that it mustn't really have been the love of his life after all. He did not tell them that he had woken up on the morning of Amanae's twentieth birthday next to her still body, already cold and stiffening. He did not tell them that there had been a knife in her chest, a silent music box in her hand and a smile on her face.

o

In this life, his sense of morals and _justice_ was just too damn huge for him to smother and he _had _to report her. In this life his sense of responsability and self-righteousness was just big enough to make him try to save her anyway, but not enough to make him care for _her _say about the whole matter.

Too bad that in this life, his sense of reality is too small for him to realise just how hopeless it all is.

(And his selfishness too great to let him give up.)

* * *

In another life, he wakes up next to her warm body, his arm wrapped around her waist and her curled hand resting on his chest, just like every morning. He smiles, burrows his face in the dark ocean of her soft hair and breathes in the smell of her, still as exhilarating and alluring as the first day.

He can never tire of her, he knows.

She mumbles something, very softly, stirs lightly and her eyes flutter open. She sees him, smiles reflexively and presses a kiss to his cheek. She whispers _good morning, love_, lips moving on his skin.

He never tires of this, of watching her stand up, naked in the middle of his bedroom, bathed in the sunlight filtering through his curtains ; of hearing her shower while he makes them tea and laughing as she steals a sip from his cup ; of holding and kissing her, of feeling her tongue flicker against his lips and seeing a sparkle light up her deep dark eyes. He never tires of any of this, although it happens every morning ; he will never tire of this _because _it will happen every morning of the rest of his life, because he's _saved_ her and she can stay by his side forever now.

o

In this life, he once whispered _Yukine_ against the bare skin of her stomach and felt her body start to tremble, and when he looked up she was almost crying. He didn't know what to do, panicked, thought he'd hurt her somehow already because she may have looked tough but he knew she was really so fragile ; that was what he thought. She breathed in deeply, eyes squeezed tight and fists clenched, and he bit his lip and did the only thing he could think of. He took his hands away from her hips where they'd been resting (two fingers hooked under the strap of her skirt and just, just about to pull it down) and wrapped his arms around her back, held her close to him ; her breasts pressed against his chest and he felt the fabric of her bra and her lips and her shaky breath on his skin.

_Don't_, she whispered in the hollow of his neck, _call me Yukine._

In this life, this stopped right there and then and never happened again, because she pulled away, stood up, dressed quickly (her blouse was all he'd managed to take off her yet, after all) and left, all without acknowledging his presence or his clumsily babbled excuses, and the next day she had disappeared.

* * *

In another life, he was always entirely aware of just how much Amanae was using him, and of the fact that she probably never loved him. It did not help, it does not mean he didn't try his damned hardest to save her still ; it does not mean he didn't fall in love with her anyway and it does not mean he didn't feel utterly miserable.

o

In this life, it is a little easier for him to fall asleep, and it will be a lot harder to think of her afterwards, when it's all over.

* * *

In another life, he saved her.

o

In another life, he couldn't.

o

In this life, he's still trying and he

won't

give

up.


End file.
